Jetfuel, A Sunday Story – Chapter 9

Posted bySuzette BenjaminPosted inPoetry
Image credit: Craig Whitehead | Unsplash

[ – Chapter 8′s last sentence repeated here for contextual clarity.]

“What’s going on here?… Speak if you want to live Footman!” Neroot, aka Jetfuel, demanded,

…pointing her Glock42 at Footman Bobby, aka Angel One’s forehead while gripping him in a choke-hold on the floor of his hotel suite at Toronto’s Shangri-la Hotel.

***

Chapter 9

“You are not my biographer. I’m not telling you squat!” replied Bobby.

His reply carried a venom that special field agent Neroot had not noticed until now.

Just as Neroot loosened her choke-hold grip a little more on Bobby’s jugular…

Bobby took the opportunity to…

Flip his body vigorously upward, thereby freeing himself from Neroot’s pin-down hold.

Meanwhile, Neroot, adapting to his movements flipped her body off the floor from a prone position to standing upright, also known as a kik-up. She grabbed Bobby’s right shoulder and prepared her fist to deliver a right hook to his left jaw…

But to no avail…

Bobby charged out of Neroot’s reach, bobbing and weaving shuffling his feet back and forth a la Muhammad Ali’s signature moves, the “Ali shuffle.” Bobby lunged, jerking forward —taunting Neroot, trying to unsettle her.

Meanwhile, Bobby suddenly landed a high kick to Neroot’s torso.

Neroot staggered backward briefly; but regained her wits quickly.

Bobby spun out of his successful kick. And, with his fists raised, Bobby wasted no time preparing to land another blow.

Neroot mustered all of her core body strength and propelled herself like a battering ram into Bobby’s midsection. She grabbed him in a hugging move, squeezing his arms to his side.

With uncanny acrobatic skill, suddenly…

….Bobby flipped his body 180 degrees in the air like a floor gymnast’s double Salto layout with a half-twist, propelling himself over Neroot’s head.

His move forced Neroot to crouch low to avoid the Wushu high jump kick Bobby’s body language implied that he had planned after he landed from his acrobatic rotation.

Bobby, aka Angel One, did not hear it coming…

There was a strange silence as Bobby’s body dropped lifeless to the floor…

…He was dead.

The sniper’s bullet that sailed unseen through the gaping hole that once was the hotel’s suite’s wall of windows (destroyed by sniper fire several minutes earlier) was swift and exact.

The bullet burrowed into the back of Bobby’s skull while he was in mid-air.

He was gone in an instant….before he knew it.

Neroot watched aghast as Bobby’s lifeless body crashed to the hotel suite’s floor. Surprisingly, very little blood oozed from the exit wound in his forehead.

Stunned by events, Neroot crouched for safety on the hotel floor and away from the demolished windows.

And then…

Crawling carefully among the broken glass, Neroot reached out, plucked her Glock42 from the rubble, and sheathed it in her bra as usual.

The mind always seeks answers when death visits, especially when one is witness to its scythe in action.

Neroot calculated roughly in her mind that if Bobby had not made that 180-degree flip to free himself from her grasp…she might have been in the sniper bullet’s trajectory!

Suddenly, the door to the suite opened. The soft click of its opening revealed that the new entrants into Bobby’s suite had their own entry keycard!

Neroot did not wait to stick around for introductions or to offer an explanation for Bobby’s dead body in his hotel suite.

Instead, she lunged for and grabbed all the bed sheets on Bobby’s King-size Ikea platform bed.

…hurriedly she twisted and tied them with safety knots and quickly she connected the sheets end-to-end.

She heard the first bullet twang off the wall at her right side as the first of what sounded like three sets of footsteps charged into the suite.

Neroot worked quickly as she kept rolling crunching on the broken glass, moving and darting in the area near the window to avoid a bullet.

Then…another shot was fired… Closer this time!

…it narrowly missed her…and twanged into the wall at her back.

Concrete bits spewed into her face, their chalky powder masked her appearance with a plume of pale greyish dust.

Having no time to perform any safety checks, Neroot tied one end of the sheet to one of the two wooden posts emanating from the bed’s headboard. Running and swerving, she wrapped herself into the tail end of her bed sheet contraption….and

Jumped…

… out the gaping hole that once was a wall of windows in Bobby’s third-floor hotel suite…

And, as Neroot pressed her arms to her side, making her shape like an arrow falling, gravity offered its only support—downward momentum.

Then the bed sheets flapping in the cold lake-effect breeze began to unravel from her hastily-wound coils made in an effort to fashion them into “rope.”

The whole scene appeared like an angel descending with gossamer wings…

Grabbing the sheets and holding on for dear life, Neroot could only hope that…

… her hasty rigging would hold long enough for a successful landing.

On her way down, she heard another bullet overhead and voices from the window…she could not make out what was said…

Then… her makeshift bedsheet “rope” came to its end, yanking her body abruptly like a bungy chord.

Neroot dangled one meter from the snow-covered Simcoe Street sidewalk. The fresh snow that suddenly began to fall seemed from her upside-down vantage point, to glisten like diamonds.

Flipping her body upright, Neroot released herself from her makeshift one-person belaying rope and gently tumbled to the sidewalk.

Meanwhile, bullets suddenly peppered the sidewalk…

Neroot ran until she was out of firing range.

A few tense moments later…

Collecting her thoughts hiding behind a dumpster in the alleyway on Simcoe Street, a wave of uncertainty gripped Neroot’s soul;

She felt mentally boxed in by what seemed to her to be a plan by unknown person(s) to keep her in the dark—in a virtual Faraday cage, as it were, thwarting her search for information/answers on every side.

Neroot whispered softly to herself the minuscule thought that had plagued her mind since Bobby’s untimely death—She said to herself:

“That was no rescue team! That was a clean-up crew… Could it be that, I am…

… just a loose end, someone very powerful wants to tidy up…?”

Meanwhile on the roof of the five-story office building across from the Shangri-la Toronto Hotel…

A shooter, dressed in camouflage clothing, lay prone and poised on the roof across from the Shangri-la Toronto hotel. An authentic Bhutan (Himalayas) cloak, with its traditional tribal markings embellished into a camo print, covered the shooter’s head and shoulders.

Calmly, the shooter folded down his rifle’s scope. He disassembled the weapon, a C14 Timberwolf, and placed its component parts methodically into the weapon’s case— the case was expertly kitted out to look like a well-used guitar case.

Still under his camouflage cloak, the shooter dialed an encrypted satellite phone.

“Yeah, it’s me. He has been dealt with. And, she is still alive as expected.”

A woman’s voice on the other end of the call replied:

“Good. Proceed, Footman!…”

***To Be Continued Next Sunday***

_____

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Published by Suzette Benjamin

Positive thinker, inspirational, writer, faith

104 thoughts on “Jetfuel, A Sunday Story – Chapter 9”

  4. 📖But to no avail📖

    This is so funny to read
    I received a message to ask if my numbers came in
    Me replying
    “I played but to no avail”

    Thank you for accepting the digression….lol

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  5. 📖Neroot mustered all of her core body strength and propelled herself like a battering ram into Bobby’s midsection. She grabbed him in a hugging move, squeezing his arms to his side.📖

    Oh the ribcracker arranging his waistline
    I’m still trying to picture this position

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

      1. Ah, so much strength
        The fruits of intense training
        Imagine taking a man down like that.
        These super trained women have shown themselves

        Liked by 1 person

  6. 📖Bobby flipped his body 180 degrees in the air like a floor gymnast’s double Salto layout with a half-twist, propelling himself over Neroot’s head.📖

    Gymnastics on display
    In two twists of a duckstail

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  7. 📖His move forced Neroot to crouch low to avoid the Wushu high jump kick Bobby’s body language implied that he had planned after he landed from his acrobatic rotation.📖

    Soft martial arts on display
    These two fighters
    Out in full force exercising their passions

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  8. 📖There was a strange silence as Bobby’s body dropped lifeless to the floor…

    …He was dead.📖

    Oh my goodness, he fell in action while executing his passion

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  9. 📖The sniper’s bullet that sailed unseen through the gaping hole that once was the hotel’s suite’s wall of windows (destroyed by sniper fire several minutes earlier) was swift and exact.

    The bullet burrowed into the back of Bobby’s skull while he was in mid-air.

    He was gone in an instant….before he knew it📖

    Can there be a more dramatic way to leave the earth, from a controlled bullet, so accurate.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  10. 📖Crawling carefully among the broken glass, Neroot reached out, plucked her Glock42 from the rubble, and sheathed it in her bra as usual.📖

    And she still mustered the courage to do this, leaving no trace or evidence behind.
    Solid nerves.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  11. 📖The mind always seeks answers when death visits, especially when one is witness to its scythe in action.📖

    Always
    Even when the shadow of death comes to whisper slow and softly
    Yet with suddenness a plethora of subcommittees gather in the mind

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  12. 📖hurriedly she twisted and tied them with safety knots and quickly she connected the sheets end-to-end.📖

    Hey, can you believe the inner calm and nerve of steel to prepare a defence in the midst of battle!!!

    Like

    Reply

  14. 📖Neroot worked quickly as she kept rolling crunching on the broken glass, moving and darting in the area near the window to avoid a bullet.📖

    Ah this was the plan
    Who thinks like this in a moment of dread

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  16. 📖Concrete bits spewed into her face, their chalky powder masked her appearance with a plume of pale greyish dust📖

    Shew, who ordered the makeup artist in this crisis

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  18. 📖And, as Neroot pressed her arms to her side, making her shape like an arrow falling, gravity offered its only support—downward momentum.📖

    Majestic in flight

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  20. 📖Then… her makeshift bedsheet “rope” came to its end, yanking her body abruptly like a bungy chord.

    Neroot dangled one meter from the snow-covered Simcoe Street sidewalk. The fresh snow that suddenly began to fall seemed from her upside-down vantage point, to glisten like diamonds.📖

    Heavenly
    Divine intervention

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  22. 📖Collecting her thoughts hiding behind a dumpster in the alleyway on Simcoe Street, a wave of uncertainty gripped Neroot’s soul;📖

    Oh yes, even the best in their trade have their moments

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  23. 📖in a virtual Faraday cage, as it were, thwarting her search for information/answers on every side📖

    Oh wow what a brilliant metaphor to describe her mental state

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  24. 📖That was no rescue team! That was a clean-up crew… Could it be that, I am…

    … just a loose end, someone very powerful wants to tidy up…?”📖

    So she is still at a loose end and have no idea ?

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  25. 📖An authentic Bhutan (Himalayas) cloak, with its traditional tribal markings embellished into a camo print, covered the shooter’s head and shoulders.📖

    Quite a conspicuous cloak

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  28. 📖”Good. Proceed, Footman!…”📖

    What another Footman???
    Reporting to a woman
    Could she be the housemaid
    Coming to clean up??
    These close encounters are becoming more and more intriguing

    We must be patient, wait and see
    ✍👏✍👏✍

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. The housemaid…LOL cleaning up. Excellent metaphor. I know what you mean of course… I like the way you framed it.
      Thank you for your beautiful synergy with the plot, sussing out its intent with great finesse in your discerning comments and questions. Thank you for your always rich engagement with the text.
      Happy Sunday

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Lol
        Yes, we know the job of the Footman
        Shifting things around for the cleanup woman.

        You give me such gracious percentages for my comments
        Thank you so much.
        It is a pleasure.
        Happy Sunday.

        Liked by 1 person

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